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Hello again! Welcome back! (and Happy Ides of March...)
Well, here's Chapter 4 of Mercutio and Allegra! So far I think I like this one the best. I actually wrote this before I wrote everything else (not counting Chapter One).
DISCLAIMER - I own nothing but Allegra and her immediate family (and their first names).
NOTE - If you haven't yet realized this from the other chapters, this story takes place DURING the story of 'Romeo and Juliet'. I saw online that 'Romeo and Juliet''s story only goes on for about five days, but since I don't think five days would be enough time for the relationship between Mercutio and Allegra to develop, I changed it to about a month - even if that doesn't make sense for Romeo and Juliet's relationship. That's not what I'm writing about anyway.
Enjoy, my friends! And remember, reviews are very nice things to have.
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The night was dark, but Mercutio did not let it hold him back. He knew morning would come soon, and he needed to find this myterious maiden before it came. She was younger than he was, he thought. Perhaps she was young enough to have parents who were concerned for her safety and would not want her to be out until morning. Mercutio wondered. Who was she, exactly?
She could have been anyone. Mercutio's mind jumped with eagerness as he walked through the night. She could have been a maiden from France, or the daughter of a wealthy Englishman, or a girl from a tribe of nomads. He had never seen her before; if she were from Verona, would he not have noticed her yet?
Soon he came to her. She had not moved from the shrub, but was still staring into the orchard. He didn't know what she could be doing, or staring at. Maybe she was waiting for him to return. He knew she had been watching him, but did not know why. He also knew that if it had not been for her presence, he would not have shown off and beat Tybalt. He owed his victory to the pride she gave him.
He could have said something. He could have called out and gotten her attention, or crept up behind her and poked her, but he thought that would be too easy. So he made a groaning noise and pretened to fall onto his back, as though he had fainted. The maiden heard.
"Ay me!" she breathed, and crawled to Mercutio. "God forbid thou art .."
She felt his pulse, and he continued to stay still, as if he were really dead.
"Oh no..." she said, putting her head down on Mercutio's heart.
"MARVELOUS!"
Mercutio popped up from his lying position, laughing at the maiden, who had screamed, "Mother of hell!" just as Mercutio had quoted what she had said to Tybalt.
What could have been an awkward silence did not turn out that way. The maiden was laughing after she lowerd her hands (which had been covering her mouth), and Mercutio was looking pleased with himself.
After a silence that was surprisingly relaxed, the maiden said, "Why, gentleman, you are mad."
"Oh, mad I am," Mercutio said, picking himself up. "And so, fair maiden, art thou, I have seen. Why, lady, I am sure there has not ever been two people in this world who were made for each other as we are." He held out his hand to help the maiden up. Behind her mask, Mercutio saw she looked rather startled. She crawled back to the shrub where she had been before. A grin formed on Mercutio's face. A challenge awaited him.
"Do you dissagree, lady?" he asked.
She still did not look at him. However, she answered him.
"I do not dissagree, sir, but you shall regret ever seeing me."
Mercutio raised his eyebrow and stepped forward.
"Well, speaking of that, milady ..." He went to touch her mask, but she gasped and pulled away.
"No, no, sir, please!" she told him. "Admire me as I am now! A mask is only a mask!"
"Ay," Mercutcio said, kneeling beside the maiden, "a mask that is a mask that keeps mine eyes from meeting thine."
"Oh, no, do not, I pray thee!" she cried, as he still attempted to take the mask off.
"Now, lady, I am a goodly man. Mad, ay, but good still. Nay, do not pull away! You are in good hands, tonight, fair maiden!"
And Mercutio pulled the mask off. For a moment that seemed like a few years, they stared into each other's eyes. Mercutio had realized that his ridiculous smile was no longer on his face. His heart was melting. Her eyes were like the ocean after a thunderstorm, her nose so perfectly shaped, her skin so soft and flawless. Suddenly, he regretted pushing her, or overwhelming her. He didn't want to harm her in any way. "Goddess," he said, soft as wind. To his extreme delight, she smiled, and his heart sped up in a way it had not ever before. Her smile contained the joy of a thousand girls smiling. He smiled as well.
"Are you satisfied, Mercutio?" the maiden whispered.
Mercutio stood up again, as so did she. "Never more satisfied..." He pasued. "Who told thee of my name, if I dare ask?"
She shrugged. Mercutio could tell she was beginning to tease.
"Why, sir, who in Verona does not know your name? The brave Mercutio, the restless Mercutio ... the villian Mercutio..." she turned away from him, and even so, Mercutio knew she was still grinning.
Mercutio ran in front of her. "Villian? The villian, Mercutio?"
"Some call thee that," she said. Mercutio noticed now how her light hair and skin created a light in the dark garden. "Not I, but some."
Mercutio stepped even further forward. "Thou dost not think Mercutio a villian?" She shook her head. He and the maiden had grasped each other's hands, and a shock went through Mercutio's body.
"And thy name," Mercutio said with a warm smile, "is as famous as mine is, is it not?"
The maiden's large hazel eyes widened even more. "Erm - not so famous. Not famous at all among the people thou spend'st thy time with - thy friends, the Montagues." She paused, taking a breath of the air that still smelled of that morning's rain. "I dare not think thou hast heard of me."
"Perhaps I have!" Mercutio said, looking eager.
"And perhaps you have not."
Mercutio scowled. The maiden was looking away, so she did not see yet another grin pass along his face as a new idea passed across his mind.
"Well then," he said, "will you tell me what your name is not?"
She looked back at him, and her glorious smile returned. "Very well." She began pacing around the garden gradually, and Mercutio followed her. "My name is not Ophelia."
"I did not think 'twas," Mercutio laughed. "You look to me like a Titania.."
"Ay me!" the maiden said. "I am no fairy. It begins with an 'a'."
"Anastasia!" Mercutio cried, sure he was right, but the maiden shook her head. "Adeline? Annabella? Adriana?"
The maiden laughed. "Even if we spent all night pacing this way with you guessing, you shall never get it right!"
Mercutio threw his arms up in the air. "Then, dear God, tell me!"
"Allegra!" the maiden cried, bursting into laughter.
"Allegra!" Mercutio echoed. "Ay, of course you're Allegra!" He softened as she continued to laugh at him, taking her hand. "I am sure I would remember that face. Thank the Lord I finally got your mask off." They both grinned at each other, and then Mercutio asked, "Why in the wide world wouldst thou deny me such a face?"
Allegra's smile faded.
"Allegra?" Mercutio urged.
"I cannot tell you. I will not tell you," Allegra answered, and she turned away.
"Oh, pray thee, do not turn away from me!" Mercutio begged, but Allegra only stepped further away.
Mercutio almost wanted to cry. This was the first time he could remember when he was tempted to cry, and Allegra's words cut him so deeply that he would have cried if he were alone. He would not cry in front of anyone, and definetly not her.
"Have I said something to offend you?" Mercutio asked. "If I have, I -"
"Nay," Allegra said, still not looking at him.
"Then am I not worthy?" Mercutio tried again. "Is there something about me that makes you turn away?"
Allegra made a noise as though she about to say something, but she only sighed.
"So I am not good enough!" Mercutio said. "Just tell me, Allegra, and I will improve myself. If you find me to be too short, I will stand on my toes and be taller. If you find me to be too tall, I will walk on my knees. If you find me to be too fat in the stomach, I will starve, too thin and I will stuff myself to your liking -"
"'Tis not your appearence," Allegra said, turning around.
"What, then?" he asked, his eyes wide with something that looked remarkably like desperation. "What is it that you hate about me?"
"I do not hate you!" Allegra said. "Mercutio, bite your tongue! I love you."
"Then why - uh?"
Mercutio stopped. Had Allegra just said...?
"I have loved you for years! Every day, at half past twelve, you and your Montague friends would pass by my home, I would watch you, and try and will you to see me - still you never did! Always, I dreamed, one day, you would, and now you have seen me, Mercutio! And 'twas all for nothing for I know you cannot love me."
"Thou art wrong!" Mercutio said.
Then it hit him. Had it not been only that night when he had teased Romeo for being in love? Didn't Mercutio not believe in love? Love had been so pointless to think about, with all the other things in the world to pay attention to...but the word "love", in his mind, lived in a different place than did Allegra, for Allegra was too perfect to be marked by a heavy word.
To Mercutio's suprise, Allegra looked like she might start bawling. "And will you love me no matter who I am?"
"But you're Allegra!" Mercutio said, placing a hand on Allegra's face.
She took his hand and lowered it so they were again holding hands, but she was not yet consoled. "You did not guess my surname," she choked. "When you know my surname, you will surely not love me."
"Do not say that again," Mercutio said quietly, smiling down into her angelic face. "I would have to be mad to not love thee."
Allegra smiled and then quickly frowned again.
"Aha, you smiled!" Mercutio said.
"Nay," Allegra said.
"Ay, you did!"
Allegra could not stop herself any longer. She laughed, but did not look at Mercutio. She let go of his hand and drifted past him. There was a swinging bench nearby in the garden, and she approached it, but instead of sitting down on it, she looked back at Mercutio and beckoned him over with her bright smile.
"If thou wilt truly promise thou wilt love me no matter what my surname is," Allegra said, "then we can forget about the guessing game."
Mercutio put his arm around her waist. "I like games," he whispered. He dipped her romantically.
Allegra's long eyelashes flapped together when she blinked. "Thou wouldst never win this one."
There was a hushed silence. Allegra did not need to gather her courage.
"Mercutio," she said, "my name is Allegra Capulet."